


Special Project

by Morgana



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike really hates staff meetings...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Project

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flake_sake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flake_sake/gifts).



Christ, I hate staff meetings. Especially Monday meetings, because it seems like the Watcher spends his weekends thinking up new things to 'go over'. It's like he's making the rest of us suffer because we have lives and he doesn't. Wish he'd just grow a pair and tell Fred he's nuts about her - maybe if he starts getting laid on a regular basis, he'll take the stick out of his ass and ease up on the meeting agendas. Besides, she deserves someone who'll be good to her, and the poor blighter would worship the ground she walks on. Of course, he's luckier than he knows - at least his goddess isn't the type to rub his face in it, or worse, go running off with someone else the minute his back is turned.

Can't say the same for my exes, more's the pity. Oh, not my Dru - constancy was never a virtue of hers, but with her poor mind as broken and twisted as it is, there's really no faulting her for it. But at least she was never ashamed of me, never tried to deny that she'd shared my bed. Not like the Slayer, who would've cut her own lips off before admitting we were together, or the great poof, who barely acknowledges my existence, let alone the hours we used to spend making the naked pretzel. Guess he'd lose champion points if any of his little humans ever found out I know exactly which places to lick or suck to turn him into a moaning puddle of goo.

Fuck, I'm horny! Spent last night out on patrol with Angel, and my usual post-patrol shower wank had to be cancelled thanks to the sodding sewers we ended up stuck in for most of the afternoon. Might've tried it in his guest shower, but there was no time before we had to come downstairs for this stupid meeting. So now I'm stuck with a hard on that won't go away, and no way to do anything about it. And it's painful, too - pressing right against my zipper. Maybe if I shift it a little to the left...

Well, that's a little better. Of course, the only thing that's really gonna help is getting off, but that has to wait until the yawnfest's over. Unless... wonder how pissed off the poof would be if I sat here and jerked off in the middle of his precious little staff meeting? Know he would've taken me over his knee for something like that in the old days, but it's hard to say anymore. Of course, I know how to find out...

My cock gets even harder when I think about it, although I'm not sure if it's the idea of getting away with it or getting caught that did it. I slide my hand back down under the table and just lay it in my lap, then glance around to see if anyone noticed. They're all too wrapped up in what the Watcher's saying, so I give myself a little stroke - nothing much, just a little brush of my fingertips, and it feels good enough to make my mind up for me.

There's an art to getting off in front of other people. It's more than just keeping quiet, although that's the most important part. Another big thing is keeping your movements small. Can't have everyone look over and catch you with your arm going like a piston, after all. You have to use your imagination and open your senses, really feel every tiny little touch, and build it up slowly. It's all about control, and if you don't have it, you might as well forget even trying it. This isn't the first time I've jerked off like this - never would've gotten through all the endless Scooby meetings without a wank or twelve - but it's the first time I've really been at risk of getting caught. Sodding Sunnydale gang wouldn't have known public masturbation if I'd opened my jeans and flashed 'em all, but Angel does. He's the one who taught me, after all.

I've spent more than one boring dinner party keeping him amused with what only he and I knew was going on under the table. He used to love watching, seeing me come unravelled right in front of him, and it never mattered whether it was his hand or my own at work. But that was more than a hundred years and two souls ago, and he probably doesn't remember all that. Won't let himself look at anything but the bodies, can't let himself admit that there were times he actually loosened up and enjoyed himself.

But I know better, don't I? I was there that first night, when he spread me out on the feather mattress and spent three hours licking me from head to toe before he finally slid inside and showed me what I'd really been created for. He's taken me in every position imaginable, not to mention a few that I wasn't sure were possible when he first mentioned them. I've screamed, wept, laughed, and come over and over again at his command. I remember being bent over the desk in his study for a spanking that had me begging to be fucked afterwards. I've spent hours licking and sucking him, imprinting his taste and scent on my mind until I could find his dick in a dark room full of horny blokes with my hands tied behind my back. That was a good night, that was. They all were, from the first long seduction to the last quick fuck before he got on the train to Romania, although to look at Angel now, you'd never know it. Wonder if he even remembers that night at the party and the bet he made to show off my particular skills?

My cock twitches when I think about that last one, and I feel the denim getting wet. I slouch down a little, fingers sliding over the head, rubbing the dampness in. I love this, building it up until I know there's no way to get out of coming in my pants, no matter who's looking. There's something especially dirty about it, and it never fails to get me hot. Of course, thinking about what Angel would do if he caught me just now makes me hotter yet...

I wonder if he'd spank me like he used to, acting like he was upset with me for messing my pants, or if he'd just throw me down on the conference table and fuck me. Probably has a lot of frustration from his whole noble celibacy act - hard to imagine someone as horny as he is going without. Surprised his head hasn't exploded from it by now, really, especially when you think about how often he used to get laid, what with Dru, Darla, and me around to keep him satisfied.

But thinking about Angel's sexual frustration isn't going to help my own. Unless he decided to take care of both problems at once, that is. I rub my thumb in a circle on the tip of my cock and start up my little fantasy. He'd do that little tongue cluck when he felt my pants, of course, and I'd get hard all over again at that sound just because I always do. If it was Angelus, I'd definitely get spanked, but I don't think Angel would be able to hold off long enough to do that. Maybe afterwards, when I was all fucked out.

I bite my tongue and stroke my cock with my fingertips, picturing Angel ripping my jeans off and shoving me down on the conference table. He'd unzip and I'd be lucky to get a few fingers to open me up before he was inside, but I don't think I'd care. The chance to have him fucking me again, to feel him hard inside me, filling me up like he always did...

_Jesus Christ!_ I barely manage to cough to cover my moan, and I think the old boy's getting suspicious, because he's glaring down the table at me. The very same table that he's fucking me on in my fantasy. I can almost feel my cock rubbing against the wood as I'm crushed beneath his weight, feel his breath on the back of my neck and hear him grunt as he shoves his dick inside me, almost hear the table groan and creak under us, threatening to give out from the force of the fucking. He always did know how to make it good, and with all that pent-up need he's got, it would be fucking incredible.

I shift in my chair and let my hand slide a little further down between my legs, then grind the heel of my hand against my cock. Too worked up to worry about being gentle, but that's fine, because Angelus taught me to like it rough. Besides, gentle wouldn't get me off, and if I don't come soon, I think I'll explode. I squeeze myself with short, hard pumps as I think about him bent over me, whispering in my ear while he fucks me, calling me slut, whore, bitch, boy, all the things that never failed to make me come howling his name, and this time, when he looks at me, I can't hold back.

My cock gets even harder and then I'm coming, teeth shredding the inside of my cheek as I fight to keep quiet while I shoot over and over again. He scowls at me, but it just seems to draw it out, and I'm almost certain I'm going to get caught any second now, but when it finally stops, the Watcher's still talking, completely oblivious to the little vampire drama going on right under his nose.

“Meeting's over,” Angel barks, and when the humans look at him, he says, “I just remembered something I have to take care of. We'll finish this up tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Fred says, and when she smiles at me, I can't help but return it. “Are you coming back to the lab with me, Spike?”

I start to come up with an excuse, then change my mind, but before I can say anything, Angel interrupts me. “Actually, I need Spike's help with my project,” he tells her.

She nods and gathers her stuff up. “I'll see you later, then. Don't antagonize Angel, okay?”

“I'll do my best,” I mutter, watching her clear out, with the Watcher and Charlie close on her heels. When they're gone, I toss him a smirk. “Couldn't wait to get me alone, could you, Peaches?”

“Shut up, Spike.” He walks over to his desk without looking at me, and I take that as my cue to leave. Guess that whole 'project' bit was to get the humans out of the way - should've known the bastard didn't want my help with anything.

“Right. Just be on my merry way, then.” I push my chair back and start to stand up, hoping I can get my duster around me before Angel notices, but it turns out I've underestimated the old boy. He's on me before I can get up, and he shoves me back down into the chair and holds me there.

“Did you really think I didn't know?” he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks down at my lap.

_Shit._ I open my mouth to answer him, but all that comes out is a weak moan. He seems to like it, though, because he yanks me up out of the chair and kisses me senseless. I'm not exactly sure what's going on, but when he grabs my hand and shoves it up against his prick, I realize that _I'm_ the 'something' he needed to do, and that's one project he can have my help with anytime!


End file.
